


Two Sides Of The Same Coin

by hesperia



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin
Genre: F/M, Sibling Incest, UST
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-05-05
Updated: 2012-05-05
Packaged: 2017-11-04 21:09:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,331
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/398228
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hesperia/pseuds/hesperia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Robb and Sansa have always been close.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Two Sides Of The Same Coin

It always starts as a game. They play make believe Kings and Queens in the godswood with Robb as her champion, as a King should always be for his Queen. They share soft chaste kisses when she thanks him from saving her from the dragon; his lips are stained from blackberries and she wears a crown of blue roses in her hair. And while their games are innocent enough, Sansa knows she is the most important thing to him, and he to her. They are not twins but he is still her mirror image, red hair and blue eyes, like their mother's family, but their blood is that of wolves. If I were a boy, she thinks, I would look like Robb, and the idea fills her with a feeling she cannot yet name. 

One day there is a shift, and suddenly they both understand they are too old to play those games. They are too old for many things it seems, for Septa Mordane arrives and Sansa is no longer allowed to fall asleep in Robb's bed, and she watches with a tight jaw as Robb and Jon and Theon run off to swim in the hot springs. They are my hot springs too, she thinks sadly, why is it that I must be the one to give them up? 

Robb it seems, does not mind the way things have changed. He spends his time with Theon and Jon in the yard, training with wooden swords. His laugh is as clear and loud as it has always been, and every time Sansa hears it out the window, her fingers tighten on her needle. 

She goes to his room, the sun barely rising"Do you love them more than me?" She is standing in Robb's room, the room he shares with Jon, and looking down at him as he rubs his eyes. 

"Sansa, what are you doing in here?" He sits up and the furs slide down his chest, and Sansa's surprised to see the soft dark hair on his chest, around his nipples. She does not remember Robb having hair on his chest. "Where is Jon?"

"He's with Arya and Bran," Sansa says, her shoulders sagging. "You do love him more than me, don't you?" 

Robb shook his head and grabbed for her hand, taking it in his as he pulled her to sit on the end of his bed. "Sansa, you know that's not true. You're my sister, I'll always love you." 

Her hand is small in his now, where once it had been the same size, and Sansa feels the tears welling up in her eyes, and she looks away from him, wiping her cheeks with her free hand. "Hey now," he says, reaching to turn her face back toward him. "Don't cry. You know I hate it when you cry." He wiped his thumb over cheek, brushing away her tears.

"I miss you," Sansa says, when she finds her voice. "I know I shouldn't, and that we aren't children anymore but I miss you and our games." 

Robb scoots up the bed, closing the large gap between them. "You'll always be my queen," he says, his hands still on her face. "And I will always be your champion." 

He kisses her softly on the cheek, but he does not pull his mouth away, instead he hovers over her cheek, over the corner of her mouth, his breath hot. Sansa turns her head slightly, to look at him, but his lips are over her now, and he presses them down against her mouth. It a kiss as chaste as all the others, but Sansa can feel the prickle of Robb's stubble against her lips, and it surprises her, her mouth opening to inhale at the shock of it. 

When Robb's tongue pushes into her open mouth, the feel of him in her mouth is soft and warm and wet. He pushes it against her own tongue, probing her mouth, coaxing her to reciprocate. Sansa's hands are fisted in the furs of the bed, and she tentatively licks at Robb's mouth, over his tongue. She is rewarded with a sound from Robb, deep and low from the back of his throat and she pulls away, her eyes wide, chest rising and falling sharply with each breath. 

"You should go," Robb says, an almost tortured look on his face as he does. "Sansa...I..."

Sansa's face flushes, flooding with embarrassment as she runs from his room. She tells Septa Mordane she is ill, and spends the day in bed, but even her books of knights and ladies does not help. She cannot think of anything other than Robb's mouth, the feel of his lips on hers, the taste of his tongue, how his tongue had been inside her mouth. Nor can she forget how bad she had been at returning this kiss, and how he had told her to leave, had demanded it of her.

There is a knock on her door, and Sansa sits up, expecting her mother or Old Nan, but it is Robb standing in the doorway, a tray of food in his hands. "Go away!" she says, pulling the furs over her head. She cannot look at him, cannot stand to watch him look upon her. She hears his footsteps come closer, and he sets the tray down. For a moment she thinks he means to leave the tray and go, but then the bed dips on one side, and he pulls the furs back as he slips into them, lying on his side next to her. 

"I'm sorry," he says, and Sansa is surprised to find him looking as embarrassed as she feels. "I shouldn't have...I should have explained...I didn't mean to hurt you, Sansa. I never want to hurt you." He reaches out and cups her cheek in his palm. "We're not children any more, those games we played once...but I can't help it...I love you, Sansa. I always will, more than anyone." He slides his hand from her cheek to cradle the back of her head, his nose rubbing against hers before he tilts his head and captures her mouth with his. 

This time, Sansa let's herself drown in his kiss, her mouth opening easily to him, wet and wide, taking his tongue into her mouth with ease, and giving just as much back. Robb's teeth pull on her bottom lip, and Sansa feels her entire body heat, as though she's standing in the middle of a fire. And she realizes then, that all the songs she sings, all the stories she reads of knights, all of them have always had striking blue eyes and thick russet hair. All of them have always been Robb. 

Until there is a prince, because Sansa has only ever dreamed of knights, and not princes. He is tall and blond, with bright green eyes and an easy smile, and he directly at her. She smiles, flushes red, and she does not at first notice Robb glaring at the prince. "You're being rude!" she hisses. He looks away, down to the mud of the yard, and then back to her and Sansa is shocked by the hurt in his eyes, in their eyes. 

"They're our guests," she whispers, as her father and the King head down to the crypts. "You need to be nice." She doesn't hear his reply, he's already halfway across the yard, Theon at his side, Jon on the other. She thinks maybe she should go after him, tell him not to worry, but her lady mother is introducing her to the Queen, and the thought is forgotten. 

Late after the feast, Sansa is lying in her room, her head full of honeyed wine and thoughts of the prince. "Joffrey," she says to herself, sighing as she rests her head on her arm. "My prince." And he might be, one day, if they are married as the King wants their houses to be joined. She is so lost in thought that Sansa does not hear the door open or close, and it is only when Robb is climbing into her bed does she open her eyes to look at her brother. Sansa can tell he's been drinking, can smell the Dornish wine on his breath as he lays next to her. 

"Do you really want to marry him?" he asks, his voice quiet as he plays with a lock of her hair, wrapping it around his finger. "He's a pompous ass." 

"Are you jealous?" she asks, jokingly, but she regrets the jape the minute it leaves her lips when she sees his eyes darken, his mouth straightening into a hard line. 

"You know I bloody well am," he growls, and he pushes her back onto the bed, his hands holding her down against the mattress as he moves over her. "You're mine and I'm yours, isn't that what you said, Sansa? Isn't that what you wanted?" 

He kisses her hard and fast, bites on her bottom lip until she tastes a hint of blood. His hands crawl all over her, long lines and soft curves, pulling at her gown, at her shift, until she's in only her small clothes beneath him, her breasts bare for him to see. They've never gotten this far before, there had been a few times where Robb had touched her breasts through her gown, but never like this, never so exposed. She whimpers as he leans down and kisses her nipples with the lightest of touches, drawing his lips over the tight, hard peaks, over and over until he suckles her nipple into his mouth, and Sansa's eyes snap shut, her head falling back against her pillow.

She had heard whispers on the kind of pleasure men and women could bring to each other, but she'd never dreamed it would be so much, so overwhelming, and she'd contemplate it more but Robb's hand is pulling on the strings of her small clothes, dragging them down her hips. His hands are large and warm on her thigh as he pushes her legs open, letting out a small moan when he gazes upon her core. 

"Whats wrong?" she asks, worriedly. 

"Nothing," he whispers, leaning in to kiss her again. "You're just beautiful." She blushes at his words, and her heart jumps when she feels his fingers on her, touching her softly, covering the pads of his fingers in her slick wetness. 

Opening her up with the tips of his fingers, he concentrates all his ministrations on her tiny nub, and Sansa has to cover her hand with her mouth to keep from screaming outloud as he pushes a finger inside her. One at first, and then slowly slips another one in, and Sansa doesn't know if she'll ever remember anything as pleasant as the feel of Robb's fingers inside her for the first time.

"I want to touch you," Sansa says, sitting up, Robb's fingers rubbing over her. She undoes the laces of his breeches, pulling them down as he kneels and she's surprised by the size of him. His cock is long and thick, and she wraps her hand around it, looking up at him with raised brows. "Is this right?" 

He nods, his bottom lip between his teeth, and from the look on his face Sansa thinks he might be in pain but then he pushes his hips up against her hand, and she realizes its not pain at all, but pleasure. The thought of her touch bringing him pleasure excites her, and she begins to stroke him, her hand running up and down his shaft. 

"Like this," he grunts, wrapping his hand over hers, showing her how to pump him, up and down. His hand is warm on top of hers, guiding her. He drops his hand back down to between her legs, his thumb rubbing over her nub, and with his other hand he pulls her closer to him, Sansa's legs sliding over his legs. The backs of their hands rub as they touch each other, and Sansa tips her head up to find his mouth. He tastes sour from the wine, but she doesn't care, she just wants his mouth on her, his tongue playing with her own. 

She gasps when he pushes his fingers deep inside her, changing the angle so that he can be in her and still rub his thumb over her, and she grips him tighter, stroking harder and faster as the pressure builds inside her. "Robb..." His name spills over her lips as she seizes, and Sansa's sure in that moment she's going to die, but the flood of a release washes over her, over and over. She looks up at him with sudden understanding, and presses her lips hard against his, licking deep into his mouth as she brings him to his release, his seed spilling warm and sticky over her fingers and onto the bed. 

They curl around each other,Sansa's head on Robb's chest, their fingers laced and resting on Robb's stomach. 

"I will have to marry him," Sansa says, looking up at her brother. "But I'll be Queen then, and I could have Joffrey make you a knight, and a Kingsguard like Ser Jaime." She pulls the furs up over them, as the air in her chamber has cooled off significantly, the fire almost burned out in the hearth.

"I don't want to be in King's Landing, I want to be here, with you," Robb sighs, his lips resting against her temple, and Sansa can feel the comfortable warmth of his breath on her skin. Sansa knows that for all her talk of knights and ladies, that she cannot be Queen and have Robb at her side. He is heir of Winterfell, his duty is to the North. Sansa sighs, pressing her face tight against him. Winter is coming, she thinks sadly, and never before has she understood better the meaning of their words.


End file.
